Prelude to Sunnydale: The Temptations of the Queen
by Niels van Eekelen
Summary: Everyone deserves a nice, sun-drenched holiday in Mexico. If you're Cordelia Chase it does, at least. It is the BEST. Unless some sheep of a friend follows you to Las Palmas, or strange people are trying to have you make wishes, or-worst of all-you get stood up by your chosen holiday romance!


The Temptations

of

The Queen

**Las Palmas, Mexico, 1996**

**Cordy's Day (the first part)**

There was a place on this Earth where she was revered; where her every move was copied in mostly futile attempts at coolness; where the elite, her followers, memorised every word she spoke; a place, in short, where she ruled. Where she was Queen.

Cordelia sighed. Who would have thought it was possible to actually come to miss dusty, boring old Sunnydale? For all its endless cemeteries, its lack of shoe stores and its many losers in many varieties, at least most people there knew how to appreciate class. This… this _resort _here in Mexico was devolving even her parents into lower-middle-class holiday-goers. Cordy took a croissant, but didn't butter it yet. Hearing her parents chatter enthusiastically about group activities was making her a little nauseous.

"You'll be there too, right, little girl?" daddy said.

Cordelia looked up from her plate half-surprised. She hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation beyond the general topic. Still, she put on her brightest smile and said, "Sure, daddy. Wouldn't miss it." Unless, of course, she 'lost track of time' and ended up missing the whole thing. Cordelia had missed what today's activity was, but judging by the dignity of the group activities that had been supposed to entertain people the past few days, it was probably a sack race. Cordelia had managed to miss every single activity so far.

God, how was she ever going to live this vacation down once they got back home? She'd have to tell all her friends her parents had taken her somewhere cool. They could never know the truth.

It was 10.00 am and Cordelia couldn't get away from breakfast with her parents fast enough. As soon as she figured she could get away with it, Cordelia got up and told her parents that she was going to the beach to catch some rays. She was out of the hall almost before they could wish her fun.

At first, Cordelia set a brisk pace, but her step faltered before she got very far. She wasn't _really_ going to the beach. That had just been a convenient excuse It was not as if she _needed_ to go sunbathing. Cordy made sure she kept an attractive tan year-round. She lived in California, after all, and when even California failed her, there was still _Renée's Solarium_ where there was always a place waiting with her name on it.

The depressing truth was that Cordelia had nowhere to go. None of her Cordettes were in Las Palmas—and, again, thank _god_ for that. With the largely migratory population of the resort, all awareness of proper social order seemed to have gone out the window. Everyone here was so stuck up that they failed to see that Cordelia was ever so incredibly much better than any of them. Cordy almost wished one of Sunnydale's well-defined losers was at the resort to make her feel better by simple comparison. Mousy Willow Rosenberg, Mini Jonathan Levinson, Doofus Xander Harris—no, not Harris. The way the vacation was going, the spaz would probably think of a comeback before she was long gone, for once.

Ultimately, Cordy just put on her bikini and a wraparound skirt and went to the beach after all. A fresh load of holidaymakers had arrived the night before, and the newbies seemed to like getting sand in their hair on their first day in. It couldn't hurt to show herself off a bit. Maybe she could salvage _some_ decorum with this lot.

She didn't last for more than twenty minutes. Damn, but it was hot out there, with no shade. Cordelia really wondered what had possessed her parents to bring her to this god-forsaken resort. It bordered on child abuse. While a walk on the beach had certainly got the boys looking at her, Cordelia had looked back at them, and had realised that she'd just as soon not have these particular boys look at her.

It had been a very long time since Cordy had had reason to feel _this_ sorry for herself.

There was only one way to go.

Ice cream.

The hotel had a cafeteria on the edge of the beach—they ought to have an extensive assortment of ice cream. Cordy had never been to the place before. Because it was so close to the beach, and because it offered a direct indoors connection with the main hotel, the cafeteria brought food, drinks and large amounts of sweat and sand closer together than they ever should be. But necessity knows no law—Cordy's need for comfort food as well as coolness was so immediate that she just didn't care anymore.

Listlessly, she sat down on a stool at the bar. "An' what c'n I get you, Missy?" Cordelia groaned. If she had had any illusions left, they were shattered now. This bartender was anything _but_ a Tom Cruise. Not unless Tom Cruise had recently been in a few serious fights where he had lost some teeth, had contracted a nasty skin disease, and had aged twenty years. If this man tried to mix a cocktail, he'd probably break all the bottles.

"The largest ice cream you have," Cordelia said. She needed it. Oh, was she depressed! And she couldn't even call anyone she knew on her cell phone and get it all off her chest—if anyone found out where she was, she'd be humiliated. It was all her parents fault!

When the barkeeper brought her an ice cream the size of a small cat, Cordy handed him some money—she made sure to get back every last cent of change and ignored the snarling look the barkeeper gave her for that. If god had wanted her to give tips, he wouldn't have made her so miserable. Quickly, Cordelia shovelled as much ice cream in her mouth as was humanly possible while still retaining her dignity. As it melted in her mouth she took her first real look around the place. She was about to sniff disdainfully when—

Cordy's eyes widened in shock. With a jerk, she got to her feet and backed her way out of the cafeteria, abandoning the comfort of the ice cream.

Outside, Cordy shook herself. She couldn't actually have seen what she'd thought she'd seen could she? Careful to stay out of sight, Cordy peeked back inside. No, she'd had the right of it the first time, unfortunately. There she was, sitting at the bar a mere half-dozen stools from where Cordy had sat herself, chatting up to some unwashed lowlife boy. Harmony Kendall. Her life was over. Harmony was the biggest blabbermouth in Sunnydale. If she'd seen Cordelia, knew that she was spending her holidays in a no-class place like this…

But wait a minute. It hit her then. _Harmony_ was on vacation in _Las Palmas_? Oh, that was just too rich. Cordelia could definitely work that angle, if she ever needed more of an edge in coolness on Harmony than she had naturally. A small spot of light there, at least.

It was 10.32 am and Cordelia was back where she'd started, with no ice cream in sight. Her parents were still monsters, as far as she was concerned. For lack of anything better to do, Cordy continued walking, exchanging the sunny beach for more shadowy pastures.

"Hello there." Cordelia looked around in surprise. She had been so caught up in her misery that she hadn't heard the other approach. The other was a girl, probably just a few years older than Cordy herself. She had long, curly brown hair, what looked like a pricey blue pendant with red specks hanging from her neck, and a shirt designed by a designer whose name should never be mentioned in a place as base as Las Palmas. Could it be… Could it be someone of Cordelia's level?

"Sorry to just come up to you like this," the girl said, "but I couldn't pass up on a chance to talk with someone else who doesn't think this place is heaven on earth. You don't, do you? I mean, no offence, but you look miserable."

"Oh, I don't mind. Actually, I could use some intelligent conversation right around now. My name is Cordelia," Cordy said questioningly.

"Hallie. I'm Hallie." Hallie had a friendly air about her, like she was always ready to lend an ear for your troubles. Ordinarily, Cordy couldn't stand such people. That wasn't quite true. She _loved_ stepping on them. But as it so happened, Cordelia could really use someone to vent to, someone of even remotely her level. And if Hallie was actually going to listen and think about what she said, well, that couldn't be helped. "So. What has got you so down?" Hallie asked.

Cordy sighed. "It's this place," she said. "With all its games, and family fun, and… It's just all so dreadfully _tasteless_."

"There's more to it than that. I can tell. Let me guess—it's your parents, right? It's always the parents. They can make your life miserable like nobody else."

"Yes!" Cordelia agreed passionately. "Sometimes it seems like they're trying to ruin me on purpose. I wish they… I wish…"

"Yes!?" Hallie said. "What do you wish for?"

Cordelia was taken aback by Hallie's sudden fervour, but it was infectious. "I wish that my parents would—"

**Harmony's Day**

Harmony was having great fun. It was all just so simple here in Las Palmas. Every day, there were new activities everyone was supposed to participate in. People made it clear to her what she should do, explained everything. Harmony loved it when things were clear. The only thing was, that sometimes she wished Cordelia was there. If Cordelia told her that all these group activities were the right things to do to be cool, she could be certain.

She sighed. It was such a shame that she would be going back to boring old Sunnydale tomorrow. Today was her last chance to party. Her father sometimes talked about partying Mexican-style, when he didn't realise she was in the room. She still had no idea what it meant, but she intended to find out.

Harmony skipped breakfast that morning to go looking for something special to top off the vacation. Besides, who needed breakfast? At the beach, it was more important than ever to watch those calories. Imagine being overweight and having to wear a bikini—or at least a bathing suit—for weeks on end! Oh, wait, she didn't have to imagine it. Harmony had seen and laughed at plenty of those sad women in the past two weeks.

What was she looking for again? Oh yeah, the ultimate party. Now, where could she find something more exciting than the resort's regularly scheduled activities?

…

…

…

Boy, but it was hot today. Harmony needed a cool drink. Finding the appropriate way to top off the vacation was turning out to be more difficult than Harmony had anticipated. She decided to take a break. Following the signs pointing her towards 'Refreshments,' Harmony soon ended up in the hotel's beachside cafeteria.

It was 10.24 am and Harmony ordered a Diet Sprite with extra ice. She got it from the ugliest buffoon she had seen all week, and gave him a good tip just to get rid of him.

At ten minutes to eleven, Harmony was still sitting there. Alone. Bored. She was starting to see why all those group activities were organised anyway. Aside from eating, drinking and lying in the sun, there was nothing else to do in Las Palmas that she could think of. Eating and drinking was out of the question—she'd already gained weight that vacation. What would Cordelia and the girls think back home in Sunnydale? And lying on the Beach? Nice as it was, if she lay in the sun for another ten minutes, her skin would fall off. Once again, Harmony wished Cordelia was there. _She_'d have ideas, she was sure of it.

Harmony was just about to move out of the cool shadow of the bar into the cheerful sunlight in hope of fresh ideas when something occurred to her—or, rather, someone spoke to her.

"Hey there, honey."

Startled awake by both the words and the tone in which they were said, Harmony turned around, fully intent on giving whoever it was a piece of her mind. She _was_ part of the Sunnydale elite, after all. No simple holiday-goer was going to get away with addressing her like that.

Unless…

Unless they were really, really cute. And then she meant _really_.

"Hey yourself, uh…buddy," Harmony replied smoothly and treated the guy to her most beautiful smile. It seemed to work, too, because stopped saying what he was about to say and just stared at her, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin.

"Harmony," she said. "My name is Harmony." She bit her tongue. Stupid! She should have let the boy introduce himself first. That was rule numero uno! Never seem too eager; make them work for every scrap. Of course, there were ways around that rule where necessary, but why would a well-trained girl give up any advantage she could lord over a guy later? While waiting for the boy to recover and stammer his name, Harmony gave him another once-over. Could you give someone a second once-over? Or was that a twice-over? Nevermind.

"I'm Sonny," the guy said. "And what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this, Harmony?"

Harmony giggled. "You're funny," she said. Sonny raised an eyebrow, as if confused. Maybe he hadn't meant to be funny. Well, that was just unlikely. Boys always thought they were funny—they prettier they were, the more hilarious they thought they were. And, again, Sonny was _very_ pretty.

"Nice to finally meet such a fine girl here," Sonny said, sitting down on the bar stool next to hers. "Especially one as fine as you."

Hook. Line. Sinker. Barely talking, and Harmony already had him. She'd barely dangled any bait yet, either. She gave him a dazzling smile. "So, Sonny, where are you from?"

It wasn't hard the get the guy to open up, and he passed the first test easily. Rich family, living in Hollywood, of all places—which was nearer to Sunnydale than one would prefer for a holiday sweetheart, but still, not so nearby that she couldn't safely ignore him if his letters became too clingy. After all, who knew where to find Sunnydale on a map that didn't live there?

No, this was good material. Harmony only had a day to play him for all he was worth, but she was going to make the best of it. Then Sonny glanced at his watch. He seemed startled by what he saw.

"Well look at that! I had no idea that it was this late already," he said. "I have somewhere I need to be." Harmony felt her spirits fall. She put on that special smile that never failed to reduce boys to a puddle of… something… at her feet. It almost worked on Sonny, too—Harmony saw him hesitate.

"Oh, I'm sure that it can wait, whatever it is." She hooked an arm through his. "Come on! Let's go take a walk on the beach instead!"

She tried to pull Sonny along, but he wouldn't have it. "Harmony, that's really not a good idea."

"Skin can't handle that sun? Oh! I can _so_ relate!"

Gently, Sonny freed his arm. "That's not it at all. I'm sorry, but I really have to make this appointment. Just believe me when I say that I would _much_ rather spend the afternoon with you." Harmony did. Believe him. Wholeheartedly. "But what do you say," Sonny said, "we continue our conversation tonight? Somewhere… a little more private?"

Harmony pretended to think about it for a second and then quickly agreed. "Great! Let's say… 10 o'clock? Do you know the bluff half a mile west of the hotel?" She did, and nodded. "OK then, I'll see you there!" And with that, Sonny took off through the indoor passage back to the hotel. Harmony watched him go with a grimace.

It was 11.04 am, and there went Harmony's entertainment for the day. Still, she supposed she shouldn't complain. A hot date on her last night there. It had melodramatic possibilities, all of which she could recount to a rapt audience when she got back to Sunnydale.

Sadly, it turned out that in the absence of hot guys, there really was nothing exciting at all to do in the Mexican resort. Though she did not give up her search at any point during the long afternoon, the most interesting thing that happened to Harmony before it was time for her date was the dinner she shared with her parents, and that was only worthy of mention because her mother ordered an extra spicy main course—in spite of knowing full well that she had a weak constitution—and became unwell in the middle of the restaurant.

All in all, one thing was certain—Harmony had plenty of time to make certain she looked like perfection. And, as she studied her appearance in the mirror after applying her makeup, she had to say that she really did. She was finished well in time—plenty of it to spare, to be honest, but really, where was the point in sitting around wasting time?

It was 9.17 pm, and Harmony was ready to be romanced. It was, of course, important not too seem to eager when in the process of conditioning a boy, and she had already broken that rule once that morning, but after all, need knows no rules. And Harmony _needed_ for something interesting to happen, or she wouldn't even stay awake long enough to make the date. Or was that necessity that knows no rules? It was, wasn't it? Well, close enough, anyway.

The bluff was easy enough to find—you could see it from the hotel, if your room was on the right side—and Harmony made straight towards it. It was a good place for a date. There were quite a lot of signs saying that the bluff was dangerous, that you might fall of, but really, only idiots were going to lean out over the edge anyway. She and Sonny probably weren't the only ones who'd had the idea to come here, but the bluff offered enough secluded places that they were unlikely to be disturbed.

When she got where she was going, there was no one there waiting for her. Harmony was disappointed, but she had to admit that she _was_ pretty early. No doubt Sonny would show up soon, and she'd scold him for being late. Later than her was automatically late, of course.

But Harmony waited, and waited some more. Sonny was still nowhere to be seen. When Harmony had been waiting for maybe ten, twenty minutes—she didn't know; she wasn't wearing a watch, but it seemed much longer—she decided to walk around a bit. Maybe Sonny was waiting for her somewhere further downhill.

She looked everywhere, but Sonny was still nowhere to be found. Ultimately, disappointed, Harmony decided to go back up the bluff and just wait for her date to finally show up. Something _had_ to happen eventually.

She perked up when she thought she saw someone move, but an instant later, as she walked right into a cloud of the most disgusting dust. A load of it blew right into her mouth, and she coughed and spat behind a plant until she was sure she had rid herself of every last grain of it. That was it! What more could happen to ruin the day? She almost gave up right then and there, but if she went back to Sunnydale without at least a tale of her putting a guy in his place for being late, she would never dare show her face again! Dejectedly, she sat down to wait. She couldn't be stood up. She just didn't believe it.

It was 10.08 pm, and Harmony finally saw someone walking up. It wasn't Sonny though. It was...

"_Ohmigod_!" she said. "I can't _believe_ it!" The corners of her lips curving up in the most genuine smile she had shown all day, Harmony quickly ran over, arms outstretched. "Oh, how great to see you! You're here? Since when are _you_ here?"

She felt like she was home already.

Halfrek's Day

Halfrek started out the day in an altogether good mood. That evening at midnight was the end of the fiscal quarter century. It was the first time in ages—literally, of course—that the quarterly reviews were coming up and Halfrek still had a more than decent chance of beating Anyanka. She'd never got the better of Anyanka yet. Of course, she was still a little behind on the thousand year-old veteran, but she had all day. Meanwhile, Anyanka was tied up in Switzerland. Getting a good wish out of those people was like trying to convince them that the world could really do without a single cuckoo clock more. Europeans, as a rule, were a lot less vengeance-oriented than Americans, and for some reason, people living in the mountains were the worst to get wishes out of. Anyanka would be lucky if she got the job done at all before midnight—it was impossible for a justice demon to break off a job halfway, and clients had a maximum of a week to get around to making their wish. Halfrek was doing a sweep of the North-American continent, herself, getting some quick results to score those crucial final points.

It was 10.00 am and Halfrek was only three wishes away from becoming justice demon of the quarter century. D'Hoffryn would be _so_ proud. Halfrek teleported to Mexico, and winced at the bright sunlight. It was still the middle of the night where she'd come from. As bright as the sunlight, Halfrek could sense the call for vengeance that had drawn her here. Someone's parents had been seriously lacking. Abuse had been inflicted on this person, either actively or passively. Wasn't there always. Parents—a worthless lot if there ever was one.

Before seeking out the child seeking vengeance on her progenitors, Halfrek drifted around a bit. She didn't want to stand out too much when she made contact. You always had to inspire trust in your clients. Otherwise, no matter how much in need of a listening ear they were, they would never open up to you enough.

It seemed like a likable enough place, this resort. Simply lying back and enjoying the sunshine, now that had been a long time ago. Maybe after Halfrek had won the Vengeance Demons' Trophy, D'Hoffryn would let her take the week off and she'd come back here. Ah well, time for R'n'R later.

It was 10.29 am and Halfrek took a human form close enough to the one she had worn as a mortal and went looking for her client. She found her just a few minutes later, walking through one of the quaint little built-to-look-authentic streets. Since she didn't have all day, Halfrek decided to take the direct approach.

"Hello there," she said. It turned out it took very little to get this girl Cordelia airing her complaints to 'Hallie,' and the vengeance demon skipped through most of the conversation in autopilot. It wasn't that she didn't care about her clients—she did; they all deserved the chance to deal as bad as they had got—it was just that right now, she cared more about making her deadline. She could already sense her next client cursing powerlessly in South Africa.

"There's more to it than that," she steered the conversation as soon as possible. "I can tell. Let me guess—it's your parents, right? It's always the parents. They can make your life miserable like nobody else."

"Yes!" Cordelia agreed passionately. "Sometimes it seems like they're trying to ruin me on purpose. I wish they… I wish…"

"Yes!?" Halfrek said. "What do you wish for?"

For a moment, Halfrek was afraid that her enthusiasm had scared Cordelia off, but fortunately the girl went on after all. "I wish that my parents would only ever take me on vacation to respectable places ever again."

There was a beat of silence.

"Pardon?" Halfrek asked. "Em… why exactly are you so angry at your parents?"

Cordelia looked at her queerly. "Why do _you_ think? Picking this place for a vacation spot, of course!"

Halfrek was silent. She was the vengeance type. Honestly, it never had taken much to get her to perform a good maiming or killing. But bad vacation choices? That was a bit of a shallow reason even for her.

"Well, nice talking to you," Cordelia said. "I'm going back to the hotel."

"Bye," Halfrek managed. She grinded her teeth. This was so frustrating! No good reason for vengeance, and the only wish she'd heard spoken was not something she could work with at _all_. Damn. Time wasted. Halfrek got ready to teleport to South Africa—but nothing happened. She tried once more before she realised that she couldn't report to her next job before she had finished this one.

Scowling—as much as such a thing was possible without a manifesting physical body—drifted along with her client unseen. If the Kindly Ones were on her side today, maybe she would think of a solution for this soon. Maybe Cordelia would make a proper wish yet.

It was 12.44 pm and Halfrek was getting desperate. Two hours had passed, and all Cordelia had done was rack up an impressive charge on her hotel room's pay-per-view check. There had been no uttering of the word 'wish.' There had barely been any muttering at all aside from condescension at the choice of programs available. To make matters worse, as long as Cordelia stayed in her room, there was really no believable way to stage another encounter.

Then, to Halfrek's eternal relief, there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Cordelia asked.

A middle-aged man came in, smiling amiable. Halfrek sensed immediately that this must be Cordelia's father. The longing for vengeance that had drawn her here aimed her right for him. "Cordy, are you coming? It's almost time for the beach volleyball tournament!"

Cordelia winced, but it took her only a moment to recover. "Oh, I'm sorry, daddy," she said, "but my stomach is a little upset. I guess I'd better sit this one out."

"Are you sure? You can still come and watch?"

"Thanks, but I'm gonna lie down for a while."

"OK. Get well. And wish your mother and me luck!"

Looking away from her father, Cordelia rolled her eyes, but she called after him cheerfully, "Break a leg!"

Halfrek almost manifested a physical form again just so that she could smile. _Done!_ She thought. Unfortunately, she recalled after the first rush of euphoria wore off, there were still problems to be dealt with. The girl had neither been addressing the wish to her, nor had she spoken the magical word 'wish.' If it had been just one of the two, Halfrek would have risked it, but a wish this vague could get her a penalty and she was not going to risk being disqualified this close to victory. Only one thing for it. She'd have to convince D'Hoffryn to let this wish count. Halfrek figured she had a much better chance of getting the boss's approval than of Cordelia actually saying something useful if she hung around. Halfrek teleported out of the Earthly dimension.

It was 3.19 pm, and Halfrek was finally back. Who would have thought that that many vengeance demons would have last-minute disputes they wanted D'Hoffryn to settle? Hell, who would have thought there were that many vengeance demons in the first place? Halfrek had been in the waiting room for hours. Fortunately, D'Hoffryn had at least been reasonable about the whole Cordelia matter, and she was authorised to extract vengeance. Before going to find Cordelia's father, Halfrek took a second to check in with the girl herself.

Cordelia was still sitting in her hotel room, and she was awfully chipper for someone who had felt such an intense desire for vengeance mere hours before. Halfrek wished the rules allowed her to extract a little vengeance for herself, for all this time wasted. Well, no use crying over spilt milk. She'd better hurry.

Halfrek manifested her physical form hidden in the shade of a palm tree. She needn't have bothered to be inconspicuous, really. Everyone there had their attention fixed on the volleyball game in progress on the beach. Halfrek immediately recognised Cordelia's father on the field, paired off with another man against another team. Halfrek had to smile. At least the wish would be easy to arrange. As Cordelia's father and his teammate both leapt forward to counter a smash by the opposing team, Halfrek focused her power on them and spoke, "Wish granted."

A roar went up from the crowd. "Score!" they called. They nearly drowned out the single cry of sharp pain. It was but a moment, though, before people started noticing that only one player was getting back up.

"My leg!" Cordelia's father shouted. "You broke my damn leg! I swear I'm going to sue somebody blind over this!"

Satisfied, Halfrek turned away from the scene. Off to South Africa, then.

D'Hoffryn appeared before her.

The Lower Being had taken form in all his demonic glory, and automatically Halfrek changed her form to reflect her own demonic self. The vengeance done, it matter little if she was seen—Halfrek just felt it was… untidy… to reveal her demonness in such public view. Fortunately, all of the mortals were too busy rushing in to help her victim to take notice.

"Halfrek, child. We are all waiting on you."

"Waiting?" Halfrek said. "But the quarter doesn't end until midnight. I still have time!"

D'Hoffryn winced compassionately. "Oh dear. Wrong time zone, dear child. In the home dimension, it's been midnight already."

As she readied herself to accompany D'Hoffryn home, Halfrek cursed silently. She promised herself—next quarter, she'd out-vengeance Anyanka if it was the last thing she did.

Skip's Day

Skip was between jobs at the moment, but he wasn't particularly concerned about it. That was the great thing about working for the Powers—not only was there always plenty more work to be done, but with The Powers That Be you occasionally got glimpses of exactly what jobs you could expect on your career path. Skip, for one, knew that in the coming years he would first be a prison warden, and eventually move on to be a… a guidance counsellor, he supposed you'd call it. Prison warden was not exactly the job Skip's mother had envisioned for her little boy's future, but he must do really well at it, because guiding people to their higher destinies and purposes? That was like being the ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was a big job, with lots of responsibilities. Anything beyond that was still clouded over, but Skip figured that destiny guidance must come with a salary he could eventually retire on quite comfortably, so he was fine with it.

The whole guide-thing, though, would fall through if his future charges didn't live long enough to be guided, or didn't prove themselves worthy of their destinies.

Case in point, Cordelia Chase. To look at her now, a demon wouldn't think that one day, she would be deemed worthy to ascend to a higher plane of existence as a reward for her services in fighting the good fight. To look at her now, a demon might wonder if she'd ever in her life get a clue.

When Skip turned on his scrying window—just to make sure everything was all right with the world, you know. Not like he was some kind of peeping pervert or something. Hell, he didn't even _like_ human girls. Anyway, when he looked through the window, Skip immediately saw that Cordelia was talking to a vengeance demon. The glamour spell was pretty obvious. And damned if Cordelia didn't seem ready to go right ahead and make a wish. Admittedly, she didn't have much of a grievance, but the few vengeance demons Skip had known over the years had never seemed to care much about that—as long as they could twist the wish into something appropriately bloody, they were happy.

"Oh, that's just… _crap_." Most of the time in vengeance spells, nothing too terrible happened to the wisher, at least not directly, but there was an awful lot of bad karma that could come from it. And while the idea of working off bad karma could, on occasion, be a great motivator for when people needed to get up and fight the good fight, it was not generally something that helped people get picked to ascend to higher planes of existence.

Skip turned off the scrying window, and tried to think of something else, but that of course only assured that he couldn't think of anything else. "Ah, I might as well," he told himself, and dialled up a different dimension on his scrying window.

At first the mirror remained blank, and Skip was about to hang up when… "Who dares disturb _Dinzaaaa!_ Goddess of the Lost," a greenish, wrinkled face snarled out at him. A veil like a dozen centuries' worth of spiders' webs hung over the creature's head, and the same cobweb material spanned the wings that spread suddenly out of her back.

"Jeez, babe," Skip said, taken aback, "chill. It's just me, Skip."

"Oh, Skippy. Sorry." Dinza shrugged. "You caught me in the shower, startled me a bit."

"Sorry," Skip said. "Got a minute?"

"Sure, I'm out now anyway."

"I need a favour, Dinz. Remember when I told you I was going to be guiding people to their destinies?"

Dinza nodded. "Cushy job. Did a bit of it myself before in my younger years."

"Yeah? Anyway, it's all still up in the air at the moment, kinda depends on whether my main charge hits her stride on the way to where I'll point her. Thing is, though, right now she's more turned around than Luke in the throne room on the second Death Star. Think you could, y'know, take a looksee for me whether it'll work out?"

"Skip, I'm a Goddess of the Lost, not some cheap oracle."

"Demi-Goddess."

"Bite me."

Skip made his most endearing face. "Please, Dinz? For old Skip? This girl has lost her path—I just need to know if it's to be found it her future."

Dinza sighed. "Fine. I could never say no to you, could I? What's the girl's name?"

"Cordelia Chase. Cordy."

"OK—just a second." Dinza closed her eyes in concentration, and her wings fluttered idly. After a minute, the Goddess opened her eyes again, and gave Skip a regretful look. "Sorry Skip," she said. "Looks like this girl won't be finding much of anything anymore. As it stands, she'll be dead before the sun rises next in the place where she is."

"Crapperooni," Skip cursed. "Damn, that's worse than what I was afraid of. Thanks, anyway, Dinz. Guess I'd better go see what I can do about that."

"Hope it works out for you, Skippy," Dinza replied. "Talk to you later." And she hung up.

Skip pondered the situation for a while. He really wasn't supposed to interfere with Cordelia's life. Truth to be told, he wasn't really supposed to even know about Cordy yet. But he had to do _something_. He tuned the scrying window back to his future charge.

"… with _you_?" Cordelia was saying, in an obviously sarcastic tone.

"Hey, I know I'm not much, princess," came the reply.

It was 2.11 pm, and Skip groaned when he saw who Cordy was talking to. That was probably his explanation right there.

"I'm sure a girl like you's got prettier boys than me waiting for her back home—"

"Got _that_ part right."

"But then, what else are you going to do tonight? Bob for apples?"

Cordelia groaned at the idea. "You've vaguely interested me. Continue."

"There's no way anyone can spin bobbing for apples into an interesting anecdote, princess. A secret rendezvous with a stranger you can keep as mysterious as you like, on the other hand…

"Say no, say no, say no, say no…" Skip prayed fervently, even though Dinza had pretty much already told him Cordy was going to do it. "Say no, say no, say no." A little bit of mind powers would have gone a long way. Skip knew a guy in Westchester, New York, but that wasn't much good to him here, now was it? Besides. Free will and all that. The Powers frowned on the manipulation of human minds, especially when it wasn't them doing it.

Meanwhile, the conversation was progressing towards its inevitable resolution.

"Fine… Johnny, was it?" Cordy said.

"Sonny."

"What do you propose exactly, Ronnie?"

"I humbly propose, your highness," Sonny said, "that you meet me at nine o'clock. I assume you'll have no trouble finding the bluff half a mile west of the hotel? I'll meet you up top."

Despite Skip's best mental efforts, Cordy agreed to come—"but don't think you'll get to try anything. I'm bringing mace." That was small comfort for a demon that already knew what the outcome was going to be.

It was 2.16 pm, and Cordelia Chase had a date with Death.

There was nothing to do about it—Skip would have to get his butt over to the mortal dimension if he wanted to save Cordelia (and, admittedly, his future job). Took quite a chunk out of his day, too, travelling across the dimensions. Pharamond was still handling transportation after all these years. The last time Skip and he had run across each other was in Babylon, back when Pharamond's run as a minor deity was on its last legs. The fellow still had a grudge about that sacrifice Skip had disturbed—not like the demon could have helped it, he was acting on orders from the Powers. It took a couple of hours before all the hassles were sorted out, and Skip was confident that there would be a flight back for him to catch.

The first thing Skip tried upon his arrival was the direct approach. He wove a quick seeming to appear human and talked to Cordelia about responsibilities, thinking about the future and being destined for great things.

She didn't take it particularly well. In fact, she told him to mind his own business and go do something rather painful. On reflection, Skip realized that this outcome shouldn't really have come as a surprise. It had slipped his mind just how far Cordy still was from her destiny.

At 5 o'clock in the pm, Skip was rather at a loss. How was he to keep Cordy from going on that date, if he couldn't talk her out of it _or_ change her mind more literally? Physically preventing her from going somehow? Easier said than done. The Powers would be on him in a second if he did something like that. They'd sense it. Sure Cordy was going to be their champion, but Skip was quite certain they'd take issue with him for interfering. The Powers moved in mysterious ways. Like the U2 song.

Luckily, before Skip slipped any further into lame existentialist despair, he realized that he wasn't a total idiot, and knew what he had to do. He took a step sideways into Faerie, a dimension that only half intersected with the mortal world, and less so with every passing year (the faeries themselves had given up on crossing over to the mortal world centuries ago), and he settled in to wait.

It was 9.37 pm before Skip realized that he'd nodded off. He cursed himself so loudly that he had to jump out of Faerie quickly, before he attracted too much attention of the local population. Not too fond of demons, or anything to remind them of Hell, they were. 9.37! How stupid could a demon be! After all that effort, was he now too late? Cordy's date had been at 9 sharp. Hushing his curses and praying to the Powers, (though not too loudly, because he still didn't want them to know what he was doing,) Skip slid through the dimensional doorway. There was someone waiting went he popped back to Earth.

The journey in from Faerie made absolutely no sound at all, but somehow, Sonny sensed Skip's arrival behind his back. The vampire spun around, snarling, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Quickly Skip sniffed up the air Sonny had just snarled out at him. An unpleasant experience, certainly, but worth it—there was no blood scent. Sonny hadn't fed yet. The vampire retreated a step at the sight of Skip. "Whoah."

Before Skip could speak up, or rather think of what to say, Sonny took another step back and raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Whoa, whoa, hold on a sec before you bash my head in, will you?"

Bemused, Skip did.

"Look," Skip went on, "I know there's no love lost between you demons and us vamps, but let's not start anything, OK? I'm not looking to start anything here. Got a good thing going, and I don't want anything to mess this up. If you've got business here, I'll do what I can to accommodate you if you promise not to disturb the ecosystem too much, all right buddy?"

"No business," Skip said. "Just out for a snack, and you don't look so tasty anyway." Somehow, he kept a straight face.

"Ha! Well, I bet I don't at that. You like blondes? Got a blonde coming up here in a bit—you can have her if you like. Got my eye on some other tasty morsel tonight anyway. Should have been here by now, but I can go find her by scent if I have to."

"You're giving in awfully easily," said Skip. His surprise was genuine.

"Ah, it's worth it. Like I said, got a good thing going around here, almost since tourists have been coming to the beach here. It's worth it to stand back to let others pass through from time to time, even if it costs me a meal. There's always more fresh snacks coming."

Skip stepped up next to Sonny, and together they looked out over the ocean. Skip was thinking furiously. "I have to admit, I wasn't exactly looking forward to a big scuffle either. Far too nice a night."

"Nice a night?" Sonny eyed him suspiciously. "You sure you're a man-eating demon?"

"I'll take the blonde and be on my way," Skip said quickly. "Tell me about this system of yours."

As Skip had figured, Sonny lit up at the chance to show off how smart he was. "It's a beaut, I'll tell ya. I've got a room at the big hotel—you can see it from here, look. Pay a guy a little extra to change the name on the books every year or so and so that he doesn't look too closely at the names of the credit cards I use to pay the bills. So I'm living the good life, room service and everything, the whole shebang. All I do in the daytime is hang around the hotel—in-doors, course—and every day I get myself a date. The girls can always be persuaded to take a chance. It's only for the holidays, anyway. And the guys, if I feel like one, I just tell'em there's a party and there'll be local girls. They'll believe anything about the local girls."

Skip nodded, seeing where the vampire was going. "And the hotel covers up the disappearances to avoid the bad press."

"Exactly! You got it. It's great, man." Sonny was so pleased with himself now that he practically jumped into the air with excitement. He wasn't paying any attention to Skip anymore, which was just how the demon liked it. "And to think that I never even intended to come down to this place. I was stowed away in the back of a truck, and it just kept driving and driving. Brought me here, like I was supposed to be here. You believe in destiny, buddy?"

"Oh, I _know_ that everything happens for a reason. There's forces steering us in the right directions all right."

"You said it, man. You said—" Sonny looked utterly surprised as the tip of Skip's stake burst out through his chest. He seemed to want to try to look at his back to see where the wooden thing had come from, but before he could, he crumbled to dust.

"It's just that sometimes," Skip said softly, to no one in particular, "sometimes destiny needs a helping hand."

**Cordy's Day (the second part)**

It was 2.06 pm and Cordelia was getting the worst case of cabin fever. The idea had been to stay in her room for as long as possible so that she could avoid Harmony seeing her. It wasn't as if there was anywhere she wanted to go outside. But staying in had its own disadvantages. For one thing, room service served hardly any ice cream worthy of the name at all. It was all either a half-melted mush, or a brick-hard lump of ice—and that was _ice_, frozen water, not ice _cream_. Cordelia's life was like a kind of hell. The kind where it was hot and there was no proper ice cream available.

She sighed. There was only really one thing for it. She'd have to risk having a run-in with Harmony, but at this point, the ice cream and the simple pleasure of leaving her room seemed worth it. Still, Cordelia couldn't _really _shake her paranoia, and made a Harmony check on every corner she turned on her way to the beach cafeteria. She made it there safely, at least, but that did nothing to make feel less sorry for herself—one look at the cafeteria was enough to remind Cordy why she had never entered the place until that very morning. Those crowds of… of tourists… She shivered, and the tropical temperatures certainly had nothing to do with it. For the second time that day, she ordered the largest ice cream the cafeteria served from the same ugly bartender.

God, she pitied herself.

The inevitable loser that sat down next to her in a transparent attempt at casualness to hit on her didn't help either. Cordy decided to just let the guy ramble on a bit. Maybe a few well-placed snide remarks would help her feel better. She'd love to obliterate the guy's confidence so badly that he'd never dare to ask another girl out on date again. She sighed inwardly. But what was the point, really? Was the kid worth wasting the energy on? Strangely—disturbingly—Cordelia once again found herself missing Xander Harris and the Sunnydale crowd. There was something about repetitive mocking that made it more worthwhile as time went by. With this one-off opportunity, Cordy found herself just throwing in a few standard insults before, to her inner shock, actually agreeing to a 'date.'

Oh well, it wasn't as if anyone would ever know about it, unless something interesting enough happened to redeem the situation and allow her to talk about it later to the in-crowd. And if things threatened to get out of hand that night, there was always the canister of tear gas in her purse.

It was 2.16 pm, and Cordelia Chase had a date with Death.

Feeling a bit better about the day (just about this day—it wasn't worth feeling better about the entire vacation, either), Cordy made her way back to her room. The small glimmer of hope of something interesting happening turned out to be enough to look at the rest of the day much more cheerfully than before. She even found a Pay-TV channel that she'd managed to skip before. And let's face it—is there really such a thing as seeing _Titanic_ too many times?

The iceberg had only just hit when suddenly, the phone began to ring. Reluctantly, Cordelia tore herself away from Leo, determined to miss as little romance as possible. "Yes?" she asked in a tone displaying as little interest as humanly possible without being openly hostile.

That tone changed dramatically when the voice on the other end told her who they were and why they were calling.

It was 3.40 pm, and Cordy rushed out to the hospital with almost unseemly haste.

An hour later, she was still there. The whole thing had been a little anticlimactic. A broken leg, that was all. The woman who had told her over the phone that her father had just been taken to the hospital had almost made it sound as if he had been dying, but as soon as Cordy had gotten on the floor where her father was lying, his angry screams had assured her the opposite was true. No dying man would be so eager to start the lengthy process of a libel lawsuit.

While Cordelia was of course relieved that her father had nothing worse than a clean break in his leg, she really didn't see why he had to stay in the hospital so long for that, or, more irritatingly, why her mother insisted that she stayed there as well. It was intolerable! Spend _any_ part of her vacation in a hospital?

"It's always hard to be standing on the sidelines while someone you care about is in pain, isn't it?" a voice sounded from behind her, interrupting her inner rant. "Makes you feel so helpless. Not a good thing." With a sigh, Cordelia turned away from the window. There was a tall guy standing next to her, looking out the window but obviously not studying the view very hard. An older guy—well, to old a guy to be hitting on her without being a pervert. Great, that meant he was looking to share his pain. A quick once-over confirmed Cordy's suspicion that the man probably wasn't in the hospital for himself. Which made him even worse.

"Really," Cordelia snapped, finally realizing—to her dismay—that this disaster of a vacation was affecting her ability to properly deflect losers.

Apparently encouraged by Cordelia's lack of a proper retort, the guy went on. Cordy decided just to tune him out until he went away. The few key phrases she caught were more than enough. "… do what you can, when you can do it…" "… never know what you might be able to accomplish…" It went on and on, with something about thinking about consequences and helping others and what not. By the time the word 'destiny' stated coming up, Cordy realised that the nut wasn't just going to stop and go away by himself.

That having been established, Cordy was not even going to wait for him to finish another sentence.

"When you think about the future, and what y—"

"Listen, Zen-guy," she interrupted, "you obviously have _no_ idea who I am. I need your 'sage' advice like I need three year old Gucci shoes—you keep them in your closet, but you sure as _hell_ aren't going to wear them anymore. And what's more, if your ramblings were shoes, I wouldn't even keep them in the closet and I would never have worn them or bought them in the first place." She threw in nice suggestion of how the guy could better use his time (and certain large fruits) and she was off.

As she stalked away, Cordelia practically beamed with gratification. It might have taken a little effort to rise above the triteness of the resort, but the Queen of Sunnydale still had it in her. Oh, she still felt miserable deep down inside, but this little boost would have to be enough to last her through the interminable wait in the hospital and dinner with her folks. After that, it was time to make herself ready for her 'date,' if she decided that she was really going to go. There, she would be back on familiar territory, even slumming as she was with this kid who had asked her out.

It was 8.40 pm, and Cordelia was in her hotel room, applying make-up and selecting accessories her chosen outfit. If she wanted to make the nine o'clock date on time, she would have to leave in the next five minutes.

It was 9.05 pm, and Cordelia put the finishing touch on her make-up. There. She was perfection. She flipped the television on to see how far along the latest repeat of _Titanic_ was and sat back. The icy death. Oh, good.

It was 9.43 pm, and Cordelia checked the clock. Well. It was about time to go and see what Sonny was getting up to. She guessed she'd made him wait as long as he was going to, now. He must be wondering if she was still coming—any longer and he would probably give up and go home, or to his hotel room at least, and that was no fun at all.

Cordy shouted a quick warning that she was out into her parents' room and ducked back out before her father could reply. It wasn't as if he could follow her.

The walk up the bluff was harder on her—with her heels—than she had expected. That was coming out of Sonny's hide for picking the spot, most definitively. She paused to catch her breath well before she got to the top of the bluff, and then went on, looking for the spot the kid had described. It was pretty easy to find, despite what he had said about the place being secluded. She checked her purse. Her can of hairspray—which she had quite easily and convincingly disguised as a can of mace—was still there, within easy reach.

But Sonny was nowhere to be found.

She looked.

She waited.

But he was nowhere to be found.

Cordelia Chase… had been… stood up? No way. No way on Earth. Not by a sleazebag like this Sonny kid. He was lucky she'd even talked to him! This was honestly the worst vacation _ever_. God, she pitied herself.

"_Ohmigod_!" she heard. "I can't _believe_ it!" Cordelia took it stoically when Harmony ran up to her and enveloped her in a hug. "Oh, how great to see you! You're here? Since when are _you_ here?"

Yep. Worst vacation ever. Why couldn't there have been a single thing that her gone her way?

_fin_

* * *

Like it? Then why not check out my original fantasy saga FULCRUM, available in e-book on Amazon Kindle and Smashwords, or start reading for free on my website TelltaleProductions dot nl (link in profile).


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